There was once a baby who was born,
who then had aged into a teen who had become forlorn,
who then had grown into a man whose heart was torn.

The man who was always alone, outcasted from society,
who had never had the pleasure of avoiding notoriety,
who had never known true love but his soul filled with mere piety.

His body tired, his mind destroyed, his spirit broken,
never having been offered any gratitude or any kind of token,
his potential blocked, talent unrecognized, his words hesitant yet spoken.

The man who knew nothing but eternal pain and tantamount sorrow,
his desire to end his existence remains to occur until another tomorrow,
yet he lives as an invisible ghost, waiting forever, his soul for God to borrow.

He sheds tears of blood, he throws fits of anger, yet never heard,
his sleepless nights, haunted by his fears and nightmares makes him stirred,
his reality and his consciousness split into two, always remaining undeterred.

The man who is ashamed to exist, who daily questions why does he exist,
he is welcoming of heaven, he is frightened of hell, out of an inevitable twist,
and lastly he knows, that when he at last dies, he will never be truly missed.